


From Midnight

by DenebYL



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, F/F, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, One Shot, Synin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenebYL/pseuds/DenebYL
Summary: Obviously Eivor had blatantly placed them there. Places where she knew was reserved only for Randvi’s eyes and heart, left there as waves of disappointment rush through EIvor’s heart. It’s that she wishes that she could be there to see Randvi wake, and to kiss her again when Randvi is conscious enough to reciprocate her loving murmurs of “Good morning”.
Relationships: Eivor/Randvi (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 189





	From Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote something about this headcanon in my previous fic ([here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27630077) ya go!) and I'm here to provide for... myself. and yall. Hi there.
> 
> There's a bit of stuff in italics there and it's something I wrote myself! I've been waiting for a ship to use it with and I really think it fits here.

There’s a new habit that Eivor has adopted, ever since the kiss they shared underneath the midnight breeze, where the moon’s gentle smile is their witness.

It’s been going on for months now, where Randvi would find papers with writings on them, either by the nightstand or by the desk where she worked at.

Obviously Eivor had blatantly placed them there. Places where she knew was reserved only for Randvi’s eyes and heart, left there as waves of disappointment rush through EIvor’s heart. It’s that she wishes that she could be there to see Randvi wake, and to kiss her again when Randvi is conscious enough to reciprocate her loving murmurs of “Good morning”.

If you were to ask Randvi when it began, she would simply tell you that she wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was several months ago, when Eivor admitted to her that she had read a certain diary entry several years back, and stayed silent out of respect. Perhaps it was when Eivor spoke of a little girl that she had encountered during her travels, and how the girl begged for the last leaf on a tree to stay until her father had come back.

Every so often, Randvi wonders what it was like the first time Eivor took a piece of parchment and poured her heart’s contents and desires into it. She can’t yet fathom how is it that Eivor weaves all these words onto paper, and yet it still manages to convey Eivor’s feelings to her as if she was right there with her.

She adores every one of them, each single letter. For she didn’t think it was possible to fall deeper in love with every passing day. As every single line makes her heart flutter like butterflies in springtime, and at the end of each and every one of them all she could do was let out a dreamy sigh.

For Eivor would write of what she wishes she could be doing instead of chasing the winds that lead her all across England, though she adores the sunlight that streams through the tranquil leaves, the waters that whisper promises of calm and peace, and mountain peaks bestrewn with pure white as innocent as a newborn babe. 

_”When I fall asleep, I dream of you,”_

How Eivor wishes she could hold Randvi’s hands, and whisper into her ears the sweet promises and poetry inspired by the galaxies in Randvi’s cerulean eyes, the soft butterfly kisses that quickly became Eivor’s favourite, and all the touches – by the Gods, her skin against Eivor’s – ignites the fire in her heart that she doubts could ever be put out.

_”And a constellation of stars,”_

How Eivor goes to sleep with the thought of her, and she dreams of her with a crown of constellations on her head. How she desires Randvi like an endless stream of waves at the beach, as quiet but as steadfast. And in turn, how Randvi reminds her that even in the blackest of nights, the darkest of times, there will be an embrace that carries away her burdens and remembers her dreams.

_”Lying on top of your head like a crown,”_

Or how much Eivor adores Randvi, the North Star that stands tall and firm, a bright light in the darkness that guides her heart to the home that she never thought she would have. How she adores waking up to a morning with that of the chirping birds and sounds of laughter seeps in through from the outside, and yet Eivor can still hear the careful march of Randvi’s heartbeats and the soft sound of her breathing.

_”And uncharted galaxies in your eyes.”_

Sometimes Eivor would go as far as leaving a small piece of parchment under the map where Randvi does most of her work. How she thinks of the night that they kissed, where wondrous streaks of diamonds were painted against pure midnight velvet. The moon looming with its usual grace and majesty, its watchful eyes a witness to desires long held back. How she wishes she could go back and kiss her a hundred more times.

_”And when I wake, I think of you,”_

Perhaps she would even write of the skylines she sees with Synin, where once in a while Eivor was able to have a modicum of peace amongst the war torn grounds. Be it by the mountains, where empyrean orange paints the skies with its ethereal glow, or by the crackling of playful and gentle fire as she sat amongst people drunk on both freedom and mead. She would write of how nothing compares to seeing Randvi after a long week of being away, and how their reunion brings all of the exhausted colours back into her heart.

_”With the yearning of a thousand years,”_

Even if it’s something as small as how Eivor loves to linger a little bit longer than she should, or how she loves the feel of her palms against hers as their fingers intertwined. How Randvi still makes her heart skip a beat, in an embrace that was as serene as it was warm.  
How their love story is the only one that she needs for the rest of her life.

_”And with the hopes and dreams shared when our lips touch.”_

-

“My love.” Eivor leans in to kiss Randvi, for being two weeks apart only made their hearts grow with fondness and devotion.

Randvi reciprocated with as much enthusiasm and tenderness as Eivor gave her, if not more.

“How were the festivities?”

“Went as well as you’d expect it to.” Eivor laughs. “Finnr, on the roof, again.”

“Oh, no.” Randvi playfully teased. “At this point, he’ll be a better climber than you.”

“We can’t let that happen, can we?” She kissed Randvi’s cheek. “I see you’ve found the note I left under your map.”

“I did.” Randvi smiled. “But you know, Eivor…”

She looked at Eivor with an adoring sigh.

“I can’t help but feel that I’m at a disadvantage here.”

“Why is that?”

“My love,” Randvi laughs. “I’m nowhere as good as the poet in your heart.”

“And yet you’re the one, Randvi.” Eivor holds Randvi’s hands in hers, and kisses the back of her hands. “The one that makes it sing melodies worthwhile of the gods, soar beyond the clouds and into the skies, dive into the depths of the oceans." With that, Eivor came closer to Randvi, and leaned in closer to her, their faces only inches away now as she puts her forehead to Randvi's. "The love story that the Gods found worthy to write in the stars, that midnight." 

**Author's Note:**

> It's about the yearning but
> 
> eivor
> 
> I have to stan her she's so good with words and god forbid i don't utilise that 
> 
> I wrote the last two paragraphs (lines? sentences?) jokingly on my priv and this happened.


End file.
